CHAPTER 11Bethany and I spend the next few weeks surreptitiously watching and studying Derek Johnson and his friends, trying to learn as much about them as we can. It’s still too early to have a comprehensive profile of our Herring, but we have been able to determine that—based on a number of t-shirts we have seen them wearing—they are Rob Zombie fans. We make the safe assumption they are fans of both his music and his movies. It’s a small start, but it’s a start.For research, we spend a Saturday night—a Saturday night that Bethany is not spending with Tim ‘the Soccer Coach’ Collins—watching Zombie’s movies. A little too close to torture porn, for my tastes, but Bethany seems to be eating it up like the orphan Oliver at an all you can eat buffet. I’ve always preferred the classic slasher films; Friday the Thirteenth, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween. Cut a guy’s head off with a machete. Drive a pitchfork through a couple in the midst of coital throes. Hack someone to pieces with
CHAPTER 12“Craziness about that killer on the loose, isn’t it?” Michael Harris says, pulling up a seat next to us in the cafeteria, at lunch.“Yeah, crazy,” I say, trying to stay in my Jennifer Donner character, but also really not wanting to talk about this topic right now with anyone—especially not Michael Harris. With every week that passes, I can sense him getting closer to garnering the courage to ask me out. Ugh.“It feels like something out of, I dunno, Silence of the Lambs, or something,” Michael says, completely oblivious to my disinterest.“I sure hope they catch him soon,” Bethany says, shooting me a pointed look and an under-table kick to my shin.“This kinda thing always fascinates me, psychologically speaking, I mean,” Michael continues, oblivious to the silent argument raging between me and Bethany. “What is it that drives a person to do something like this? Childhood abuse? Drug use? Societal pressure? Violent media? Or is it just simply Evil making its presence k
CHAPTER 13As discussed, we spend the next several weeks stalking Christy Lee Spinner like a zombie stalking a group of addled college students.For the most part, her days are fairly routine. The only thing that separates her school-time actions from the rest of the class is that, as class president, she spends more time in the principal’s office for meetings than a straight-A student would normally be expected to.Every day, after school, she goes to cheerleading practice, after which Johnny walks her home. As both her parents work, the couple then has a few hours alone with Christy’s younger sister, Sally. I would like to believe they actually act responsibly and watch over Sally as opposed to fooling around, but they’re fucking teenagers so my hopes aren’t high in that regard. Johnny is always careful to be gone from the house by 5:15, when Mr. and Mrs. Spinner usually return home from work. His eagerness to disappear only furthers my suspicion that he and Christy get up to more
CHAPTER 14“Okay,” Bethany begins, as we briskly make our way through the dark woods, “this isn’t easy to say, but I’m not a PSK trainee.”“Yeah, surprisingly enough I figured that out after seeing your little dance-off with Jackie Chan back there,” I snap.“Yeah. Right. I’m already a fully trained operative for THEM—as an assassin.”Figures. That explains why I hated her so much when we first met. Have I mentioned that I hate assassins? I should have trusted my first instincts.“So why the whole fucking charade?” I ask. “What’s going on here?”“Well, it all has to do with that serial killer from September. He’s not a random psychopath. He’s Ninja.”Fuck. My fears confirmed. Ninja was the code name of Nick Jin, a former PSK who went rogue and was therefore turned over by THEM to the Feds. He was known as Ninja because, prior to joining THEM, he used the disguise of a ninja and used various samurai weapons to murder his victims. If Nick Jin really has gotten free and is on the lo
CHAPTER 15I didn’t intend to sleep with the IT guy. Really. As you should probably have figured out by now, your stereotypical IT guy is not my type of man. But . . . well . . . let’s put it this way. When you wake up at eight on a rainy morning and answer the door—wearing little more than a silk bathrobe, mind you—to find a man who bears a striking resemblance to Mister What’s David Brennan waiting outside your door to ‘come into your apartment and look for espionage devices,’ certain things are just going to happen.I’m sorry, don’t ask me to explain it, but there is just something irresistible about a man who, in the midst of a battle for the fate of human civilization as we know it, breaks into reciting The Lion King. I know, I know. That kinda thing would normally be a turn-off for me. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the British accent. Unfortunately, the IT guy doesn’t have a British accent, which kinda ruined the illusion, so there was a lot of me telling him to just shut up every t
CHAPTER 16It’s so surreal, walking through the vacated halls of an empty school. If I were the superstitious type, I’d be convinced there were ghosts around every corner, hiding in every shadow, watching us, waiting. As it is, I just get a minor case of the heebie-jeebies, which for me says something.We know Davison is here. We saw his car out front in the parking lot, lonesome in the parking lot on Sunday afternoon.As we draw nearer to Principal Davison’s office—the click, click, click of Bethany’s heels echoing back and forth across the haunted hallowed halls—we can hear voices coming from the principal’s office. I slow my pace, and motion for Bethany to stay back. The clacking of her heels will give us away, and something about the tone of voices makes me want to investigate first, before making our presence known.Heart pounding, I creep closer to the principal’s office door. As I draw closer, I recognize the voices of Davison and Christy Lee Spinner, but I can’t make out wh
CHAPTER 17“Look, I’m sorry, I know you said we should keep our distance, but considering the circumstances of last night, we need to talk,” Davison says, as he steps through the door into my living room.“Yeah, that’s why I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” Bethany replies, crossly. A little too crossly. I shoot her a warning glance, to remind her to keep cool.Davison blushes as he pulls out his cell phone.“Oh, so you have . . . sorry, I . . . must have forgotten to take it off Do Not Disturb . . . ”“Too busy fucking your students to notice?” is what I want to say. “Yeah, well perhaps you should have checked it before you barged into my apartment and risked exposing the entire mission,” I say instead.Bethany returns my earlier reproachful glance. Hey, compared to what I’d wanted to say, I did keep it cool.“Okay, okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. But we can stand here bickering, or we can deal with what happened. What did exactly happen last night?”“Someone beat us to
CHAPTER 18When I come to—porcupines knows how long I was out for—the first thing I am able to register—aside from the dull, aching throb at the base of my neck—is the cold, hard marble of the school hallway floor. I groan in pain, and listen to footsteps quickly departing and the front doors of the school opening, and then slamming shut.As my vision slowly returns to focus, I find myself staring across the floor back at Bethany, who is unconscious and lying in a pool of her own blood.That image gets the adrenaline pumping, and I quickly peel myself off the floor. A little too quickly, I find, because the world starts spinning. But for Bethany’s sake, I fight the urge to succumb again to unconsciousness. I search for my handbag and—more importantly—my cell phone.It must have skid across the floor after my collapse, for it is some ten feet away. There is no sign of our attacker, which does not surprise me since it pretty much had to be him that I heard leaving as I reluctantly re
CHAPTER 25First thing the next morning, William Henry arrives to take me to Duluth airport. I sit the ride to the airport in silence, staring absently out the window at the passing scenery. I tip William well, then begin my mythical and arduous quest of passing through TSA security. I go through the moves blindly and numbly. Check my bags. Wait in line. Keep waiting in line. Get felt up by the TSA operatives, at least this time it’s a woman, so she doesn’t overdo it on the groping. Thank porcupines for small favors.Sit around waiting for the flight to board. Wait in line as the flight boards. Spend four hours getting hit on by the skeezy businessman I am lucky enough to be sitting next to. Wait in line to depart the plane after arriving in Los Angeles, knowing full well that Skeezy Businessman is taking advantage of being behind me to ogle my ass.Meet the town car driver at the bottom of the escalator, holding a sign for ‘Jasmine DeLaney’—the name my return flight was booked unde
CHAPTER 24Naturally, school got cancelled for the rest of the week, in response to the additional deaths of Bethany Martin, Anthony, principal Davison, and Christy Lee Spinner. Can’t say I was disappointed to have the extra time to recuperate and not have to pretend to be Jennifer Donner for a while. I spent the time alternating between soaking in the tub and watching Mister What on streaming. I decided to skip over Brennan’s episodes to the episodes featuring Matthew Smytheson, the actor who replaced Brennan after he left the series. If in the next couple months a Matthew Smytheson look-a-like shows up on my doorstep, I’ll be sure to slit his throat. With my luck, he’d probably turn out to be the real Matthew Smytheson. Ugh.Anyway, after the week’s slight reprieve, I return to classes for my last week of the assignment, just to smooth things over. According to the ‘official’ story, I was attacked at the same time as Bethany and Anthony Hill, and I was left for dead, which provides
CHAPTER 23Weary and sore, I reverse my trek through the dark Enger Park and set into the streets of Duluth. I find a gas station with a payphone and place a call to William Henry. He’s still with his current client, but he’ll be able to pick me up in about an hour or so, so I give him the address of the gas station, and return inside, where it’s warmer.I buy a magazine so I have something to keep my mind occupied, but I can’t focus on the words on the page. The last forty-eight hours play themselves out repeatedly in my head. Worst yet, I can’t believe I actually fucked that sonofabitch. The sex isn’t even what makes me feel most violated. What makes me feel most violated is somehow he knew that making himself look similar to David Brennan would be an effective way to manipulate me—and it fucking worked, damn it.Then, of course, there’s the whole letting him get away thing. On some level, I know I should just be grateful that I walked away with my life intact, but it doesn’t stop
CHAPTER 22As William drives me to Enger Tower, I sit back in the town car, and try to think through this situation. I know I’m walking straight into a trap. I’m not stupid. But I also need to get this mess cleaned up as soon as possible.I also can’t help but wonder what the hell Nick thinks he’s playing at. He gave me the place to go to, but never mentioned the date or time I was supposed to go there, so how in the name of porcupines will he know I’ve deciphered his message and am on my way into his trap at this exact moment?The only thing I can figure is that, despite what David said, Nick must have me bugged, or under surveillance, or something David wasn’t able to detect. However Nick was able to know exactly when Bethany and I were going to kill Christy—and then know we were going to the school to bug Davison’s office—must be the same mode upon which he’s relying to know when I’m heading to our rendezvous.When we arrive at Enger Park, William turns back to me and asks, “How
CHAPTER 21Seeing as I have no car, and taking a taxi would be too conspicuous, I walk to the school. It’s fortunately only a twenty-minute walk, and since my adrenaline is pumping rather higher than normal, I make the walk in fifteen minutes. The sun is starting to set, and the autumn air is quite brisk, acting as extra motivation to walk faster than normal.Before entering the school, I do a quick surveillance. Once again, Davison’s car conspicuously stands out as the only car in the school parking lot. But, I also notice a Mercedes that looks suspiciously like Christy’s car, parked conveniently across the street.As nonchalantly as possible, with my heart racing as it is, I cross the street and enter the school through the front door, which I find is still unlocked after Davison left it open for Christy to enter.Once inside and out of the range of prying eyes, I pick up my pace—hoping Davison and Christy will be too involved to hear me approaching. As I move through the vacated
CHAPTER 20My musings are interrupted by a knock at the door—it’s David, delivering my micro ear monitor.“Thank you, you’re a dear,” I say, giving him a peck on the cheek as he hands over a small package, about the size of a ring box. “I’ll get this back to you ASAP, I promise.”“Take your time, it won’t be noticed as missing anytime soon,” he replies.I thank him again, and then close the door. I cross to the dining room table, and open up the package, inside of which is what looks like a tiny, tan-colored, plastic candy corn, which is designed to fit right into your ear canal, but can only be seen if someone sticks their eye right up to your ear.It is currently attached to a small USB cable, which I plug into my laptop. Once my laptop has connected with the device, an application automatically opens up, requesting a serial number. I type in the serial number for the bug we had planted in Davison’s office, and after a second there is a beep and the application notifies me that
CHAPTER 19I don’t remember falling asleep, but apparently I must have, because I find myself lying face-down in the middle of my floor, a page of Nick Jin’s case file stuck to my cheek, and someone knocking at my door.I pull myself from the floor, every bone in my body snapping, crackling and popping from having slept in such an awkward position.I open the door to find The Mister—I mean, David waiting.Apparently I look as bad as I feel, because he says, “Is this a bad time?”“No, sorry I’m a mess. Didn’t sleep well. Come in.” Then, because I’m still not sure if anyone can hear us, I ask, “Did you bring . . . protection?”He smiles as he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out—to my relief—a little gizmo that looks kinda like a USB flash drive with a tiny radio antennae attached.“No one will be able to hear us while this is on,” he tells me.“So they do bug us before sending us out into the field?” I say, choosing my words carefully, as he isn’t supposed to know what it real
CHAPTER 18When I come to—porcupines knows how long I was out for—the first thing I am able to register—aside from the dull, aching throb at the base of my neck—is the cold, hard marble of the school hallway floor. I groan in pain, and listen to footsteps quickly departing and the front doors of the school opening, and then slamming shut.As my vision slowly returns to focus, I find myself staring across the floor back at Bethany, who is unconscious and lying in a pool of her own blood.That image gets the adrenaline pumping, and I quickly peel myself off the floor. A little too quickly, I find, because the world starts spinning. But for Bethany’s sake, I fight the urge to succumb again to unconsciousness. I search for my handbag and—more importantly—my cell phone.It must have skid across the floor after my collapse, for it is some ten feet away. There is no sign of our attacker, which does not surprise me since it pretty much had to be him that I heard leaving as I reluctantly re
CHAPTER 17“Look, I’m sorry, I know you said we should keep our distance, but considering the circumstances of last night, we need to talk,” Davison says, as he steps through the door into my living room.“Yeah, that’s why I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” Bethany replies, crossly. A little too crossly. I shoot her a warning glance, to remind her to keep cool.Davison blushes as he pulls out his cell phone.“Oh, so you have . . . sorry, I . . . must have forgotten to take it off Do Not Disturb . . . ”“Too busy fucking your students to notice?” is what I want to say. “Yeah, well perhaps you should have checked it before you barged into my apartment and risked exposing the entire mission,” I say instead.Bethany returns my earlier reproachful glance. Hey, compared to what I’d wanted to say, I did keep it cool.“Okay, okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. But we can stand here bickering, or we can deal with what happened. What did exactly happen last night?”“Someone beat us to